


you don't know the half of the abuse

by irlbyron



Series: Abuse Survivor Marcus Keane [4]
Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8722753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlbyron/pseuds/irlbyron
Summary: Marcus had been a locked box as far as his past was concerned, but it turned out that all it took to open that lock was a six pack of beer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for descriptions of past child abuse, domestic abuse, and abuse of alcohol.

It was very late when Tomás finally made it back to his apartment he was sharing with Marcus. 1am on a Wednesday was not an ideal time to return home, but it couldn’t be helped. Tomás had never been able to skip church business, and if it meant dealing with a parishioner crisis at midnight, then he would attend to it. Marcus wasn’t much of a people person, so he never went with Tomás, so Tomás assumed he was asleep. 

 

Tomás yawned and opened the door to his apartment, flicking on the light. He took off his coat and made his way to the living room, where he was greeted with a wave from Marcus on the sofa, and the clink of a bottle. 

 

“Tomás!” Marcus greeted drunkenly, laughing a little. “What time d’you call this, aye?”

 

Tomás shook his head and sat down on the sofa next to Marcus. “ _ I  _ had business. Are you drunk, Marcus?” He asked, smiling gently. 

 

“Shhh, only a little bit tipsy” Marcus said, pressing a finger against Tomás’ lips. “I have had a six pack and then a something else and so I’m fine” He rambled. “This is only cider” He continued, waving the bottle at Tomás. 

 

Tomás sighed, and took the bottle away with little resistance from the dizzy and drowsy Marcus. “Ok, let’s get to bed then. You’ll have a headache in the morning if you don’t get enough sleep.”

 

“No, no I’m fine. It’s only a headache, I’ve had worse. Hey, hey, you wanna hear the time I got tinnitus from my dad?” Marcus slurred, grabbing  Tomás by the buttons on his shirt. 

 

Tomás froze. Marcus had swore he’d never go into detail about his childhood. He’d limited Tomás’ knowledge to the murder of his mother and hinted that that event wasn’t the first incidence of violence from his father. 

 

“No, Marcus, you told me you didn’t want to talk about your father ever. C’mon, let’s get you to bed” Tomás said, shaking his head and attempting to sit up despite Marcus’ resistance. 

 

“But I  _ should  _ tell you. You know, you told me all about your little fling with Jessica. I should tell you what my daddy did to me. And the priests,” Marcus insisted. He turned somber. “Please. I-I need to tell someone and I can’t tell you sober.”

 

Tomás sighed and sat down. “Ok, Marcus, what do you need to tell me? Drink some water and try and tell me what happened.”

 

Marcus nodded and drank from a bottle on the table. “My- my dad liked a drink too. But it was different,” he insisted. “Because he got angry, he got so angry when he drunk. He’d come home and argue non-stop with my mum. He’d look to pick fights. And if he saw me, he’d try and get in a fight too. And- and then he’d hit my mum. And then he’d hit me. He hit me as long as I can remember.”

 

Tomás sighed, putting a gentle hand on Marcus’ knee. Marcus flinched and Tomás withdrew his hand. “Sorry.”

 

“I don’t like being touched much. I blame my dad and the priests” Marcus laughed bitterly. “One time, one time he hit me so hard in the ear there was ringing for months. It hurt all the time but I couldn’t tell anyone. I was just a lad. I was 5.”

 

“Marcus, I’m sorry” Tomás said hesitantly. “It’s not your fault, I promise you.”

 

“Aye, it probably was. I was a gobby little shite when I was a kid” Marcus sighed, drinking from the cider bottle again. 

 

“No, no, Marcus, no child deserves that” Tomás said. “Can I touch you?” Marcus nodded, and Tomás placed a gentle hand on his back. “It’s not your fault, at all. You were a child.”

 

“Nothing compared to the church. They hit me too, shoved me around. Beat me when I fucked up in mass or something. I had to be a good little Catholic boy, and I never could,” Marcus said, his eyes starting to fill with tears. “‘S probably why I’m not good with people, hey? An hour of psychoanalysis could probably tell you that.” 

 

Tomás took the bottle away from Marcus, and turned to face him properly. “Marcus, it was not your fault, ok? I swear to God, and I will not take the Lord’s name in vain, it was not your fault. On the Saints and all the angels, what happened to you, what was done to you, was not your fault.”

 

“You promise?” Marcus said, suddenly seeming to sober up, looking Tomás firmly in the eyes. 

 

“I promise” Tomás said seriously. “It is not your fault. C-can I hug you?” 

 

Marcus looked surprised and shifted awkwardly. “I, uh… I haven’t really been hugged in a long time. My mother was the only one who ever did” He mumbled. “But yes, I suppose.”

 

Tomás nodded, and put a gentle arm around Marcus, pulling him close.  Marcus leaned in and then turned completely so he was fully enveloped in Tomás’ arms. He leant in and nuzzled his fuzzy, spinning head into Tomás’ chest and breathed in deeply. Tomás held him close and rocked him slightly, and kissed the top of Marcus’ head. Marcus whimpered and Tomás’ felt his heart shatter a little. To be of middle age and to not have been hugged in so long. Tomás could hardly believe it; even in his fairly solitudinal life as a priest, he still received physical affection from his sister, his nephew, grateful parishioners. And Marcus had gone so long without anyone to care about him. 

 

“Is this ok?” Tomás whispered, rubbing Marcus’ back. “I don’t want to push you.”

 

“It’s really good” Marcus said, his voice muffled as he hid his face in Tomás’ chest. “Don’t- don’t let go yet.”

 

Tomás shook his head. “I won’t, mi amor. It’s alright now, I’m here.”

 

Tomás and Marcus sat in silence for a long time, and neither of them made a move at any point. Soon, they were both fast asleep, Tomás now stretched out and laying on the sofa with Marcus on top of him, his head resting on Tomás’ chest. Neither of them cared enough to move when they woke up. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Send me requests @irlbyron on tumblr, pls leave comments and kudos.


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